INTERNATIONAL AFFAIRS
by Kayryn
Summary: Jack. Irina. A hotel room in a foreign country. Nuhuh… This ain't what you're thinking.


International Affairs  
  
By: Kayryn  
  
Disclaimer: JJ's. Not mine. Never was never will be. I'm just borrowing.  
  
Rating: PG13 - R for profanity.  
  
Timeline: The two years. You know which ones I'm talking about.  
  
Summary: Jack. Irina. A hotel room in a foreign country. Nuhuh. Man, you have nothing but smut on your minds, do you!! Well, this ain't what you're thinking. Author's note: 'S', what can I say but 'thank you'. Everyone reading this should know that if it weren't for her, Irina would suffer from a multiple personality disorder and Jack would have lost his head (literally). :blink: Honestly!  
  
Part One  
  
Jack stared at the walls of the room, bored. He was in Helsinki on a mission to gather information for CIA from a source Devlin had called "reluctant", but the next phase of his mission wouldn't take place until the next morning, local time. This left him with time on his hands, and now he was trying to decide what to do with it. It was only five in the afternoon, but it was already dark as night outside.  
  
He rose from the chair and walked to the window, looking out and to the street below. People were passing by, all of them head bent, as if charging up against the bitter cold wind, many of them holding up their collars to keep the wind from blowing down their necks.  
  
Jack had some leeway on how to spend the evening, his cover as an American business man not really restricting where to go and what to do. But looking out at the people hurrying down the street to get somewhere warm didn't really encourage him to leave the warm comfort of room.  
  
He looked around the room again, studying it. He was staying at the Kämp, the finest, and the most expensive, hotel in Helsinki. The decor showed it, too. These were the upsides of being an undercover agent, Jack mused. You always had to keep appearances and sometimes keeping them meant luxurious hotels and exotic places, not that it mattered if the agent was comfortable or not, as long as he got the job done. But sometimes, a little luxury was good. Jack gazed out of the window to the February blizzard of Finland, and decided to order some coffee and a sandwich to his room. He doubted there was anything that would make him go out to that storm willingly before the next morning.  
  
After making the call and ordering his food, Jack sat on the bed, his back against the headboard and switched on the TV. The first four channels were national, two of them airing shows with a language he couldn't even begin to understand. The third channel was showing what appeared to be an American show, and after a few moments, Jack switched the channel again. After a moment he pushed the button again and then again. BBC news. Again after a minute he changed channels, not really interested in knowing how the anchor woman in the news covered the situation of the world. It never stopped amazing him how much of the real world the news never showed. How the 'ordinary person' would never know just what the world was really like. Jack hoped they'd never find out.  
  
He pushed the button again, but seeing nothing but soccer and tennis from the next few channels he switched off the TV. Jack wondered if he should brave the cold weather after all, there was a large bookstore not two blocks from where he was. He supposed they would carry books in English as well.  
  
Bookstores. Jack's thoughts momentarily traveled to another time and place. Another bookstore, much smaller in size. One filled with old books instead of new ones.  
  
He shook his head, maybe a walk on the streets of the city would be just the thing for him after all.  
  
He was startled by the knock on the door. "Room service."  
  
He asked the person to come in, not bothering to turn around. He could see from the reflection on the window how the woman was placing the cup and plate on the table. He noticed her hair, which was dark and long, and her body structure, tall and lean and his heart skipped a beat. Then mentally shaking his head, Jack commanded himself to think rationally. The odds of meeting her were slim to none. Even in their circles.  
  
Suddenly he felt someone standing right behind him and turned around, instinctively ready to strike if need be, but found himself staring at a point of a gun. Berating himself for letting his concentration swerve, he raised his eyes to look at the woman holding the gun. The dark brown eyes staring back at him reflected surprised disbelief, and this time Jack was quite sure his heart did stop.  
  
"Jack?"  
  
"Irina?"  
  
Part Two  
  
For a long moment both stood still, staring at each other, surprised and caught unaware by the other's presence.  
  
When the hand in which Irina still firmly held the Glock moved, Jack instinctively kicked it from her hand and tried to grab a hold of Irina in an effort to incapacitate her, but her reaction was faster than he'd expected. With a sound kick of her own and an elbow to his ribs, she made him stagger and he lost his grip on her.  
  
Unwilling to fight him, Irina backed away until she was in one corner of the room while Jack occupied another.  
  
Don't make me hurt you, Irina tried to plead him with her eyes. I don't want to fight you.  
  
As if hearing her thoughts, Jack froze in his tracks and stared at something across the room. As Irina followed his gaze, she saw her gun on the floor and quickly noticed that it was of equal distance from both of them.  
  
"Jack," she began, and with that one word managed to get him to look at her. Holding his gaze, she continued, "Right now, I suggest we both sit down, right where we are now, and talk about this."  
  
Jack, knowing the other option was to fight, agreed with her proposal. Her idea was better than fighting until they were both exhausted. Because, Jack mused, they were probably very equal in hand to hand combat. "Alright," he finally said, and slowly lowered himself on the floor.  
  
Irina followed his movements and sat down, legs crossed. When he raised his eyes to look at her he was surprised to see her smiling.  
  
"What?"  
  
"Just grateful, that's all," Irina offered. "I think that in a fight we'd be fairly equal. Your strength against my agility and speed."  
  
Though typically stoic on the outside, Jack shook his head mentally. They still thought the same way, knew what the other one was thinking. He wasn't sure if he was angry or happy about that. Then he realized, he was both. Angry because it had been something he had also shared with Laura, and it felt like a violation that this woman had the same ability to read him like his beloved wife had. But he was glad that Irina, while undercover, had allowed that bond to take place, that there was something of their life together that was true and not a lie.  
  
And if nothing else, Jack thought ruefully, she's unable to hide everything she's thinking and feeling. No matter how hard she tries.  
  
"You pointed a loaded gun at me," Jack said bluntly. "I assume you're here to kill me."  
  
Part Three  
  
Irina sighed. The answer to his question was an unforgiving 'yes'.  
  
"My intel tells me that an American, Richard Bowman, is here in Helsinki to extract information from Jari Silta, a man known to have connections with organized crime in both Russia and Estonia. After gathering his intel, Bowman's going to eliminate his target. I'm here to stop him."  
  
"By any means necessary, I take it."  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Then I seem to have a problem," Jack pronounced.  
  
Closing her eyes in a childish attempt to keep from having to face the truth, Irina tried to steady her rapidly increasing heartbeat. But unfortunately, there was no hiding from the words she didn't want to hear.  
  
"Richard Bowman is my cover."  
  
The words, now hanging in the air, created tension in the room as both tried to find a way out of the dilemma they were facing.  
  
"Anyway you could just...not kill him?" Irina opened her eyes and saw Jack staring at her.  
  
"Any way you could just. walk away?"  
  
With grief in her eyes, Irina shook her head. "No."  
  
The silence that ensued stretched from seconds to minutes, the fullness of it deafening.  
  
When Jack at last spoke, Irina startled slightly.  
  
"Why is it so important for you to let him live? You must know what he's guilty of," Jack said, thinking of the list of crimes the man had accumulated: money laundering, weapons, murders, drugs and sex slavery. He couldn't imagine what a man like Silta had to do with Irina's obsession with Rambaldi.  
  
"He has connections I need," Irina offered in a way of explanation.  
  
That, however, was not enough for Jack. "There has to be more than that."  
  
Irina---knowing that this was the first time Jack was willing to listen to her since she'd turned herself in---was careful with the words she used. Now, for the first time, they were actually talking about the one thing that mattered. The future. But she couldn't tell him everything he wanted to know. It was not the right time.  
  
"He knows people I have to get close to," she tried, but still he demanded more.  
  
"What people?"  
  
"People that can help me get closer to my goal."  
  
Jack frowned, still not seeing the connection between Rambaldi and Silta. "Which is?"  
  
Seeing there was no way to avoid it now, Irina took a deep breath before saying the one word that made all the difference, "Sydney."  
  
Part Four  
  
Jack felt a pressure in his chest, so strong that it hurt enough to make him wince.  
  
"Jack!"  
  
Irina's alarmed voice brought him back from his trance, and her order to 'breathe' caused him to draw in air his body so craved.  
  
It had been ten months since his. their daughter had disappeared. After an active search that lasted the unheard of six months, the CIA had finally filed her MIA. Jack had watched as, one by one, everyone had started to think of her as dead, making comments about Sydney in past tense and then noticing him standing close by lowered their heads and muttered their apologies. Finally, even Vaughn seemed to accept Sydney's death, though he held on the hope longer than anyone.  
  
Except Jack.  
  
Jack Bristow had only recently seen a woman, thought to be dead for twenty years, come back to his life. If that could happen with his wife, then in Jack's mind there was no reason it couldn't happen with his daughter as well.  
  
Finally collecting himself, Jack glanced at Irina, who had moved closer and was trying not to hover around him. So she claimed to be searching for Sydney. It could very well be true, Jack mused, but then again Irina would know that Jack was willing to sacrifice anything for Sydney's sake and she could be trying to use that fact against him to gain access to Silta.  
  
Even before he said the words, Irina noticed Jack's lack of faith in her honesty.  
  
"I see," was all he said, but the tone of his voice spoke volumes.  
  
"You don't sound convinced," Irina remarked.  
  
"I'm not," Jack retorted.  
  
Frustrated, Irina snapped back at him, "For crying out loud, Jack! Haven't I proven that if nothing else, I love her! She isn't your private property, you know. She's my daughter as much as she's yours. And yes, I was gone for two decades, but that doesn't mean I stopped being her mother. I still loved her, worried about her."  
  
When Jack still looked hesitant, Irina continued, "I've protected her, saved her life more than once during and after the time I spent in CIA custody." She paused, and Jack thought he saw her hands shaking before she hid them behind her back. " I even shot her to save her life, Jack. And a few months later I told her I would not see her again if she chose to stay in CIA, just to allow her to have a normal life."  
  
Her last words surprised Jack. He hadn't heard anything about that, and he was surprised that Sydney hadn't mentioned it, especially considering her determination to defend her mother.  
  
He wanted to believe her, but.  
  
"If you really love her like you claim you do, then why Panama? Why betray the CIA's trust? Her trust?" Jack asked, leaving out the two words both heard the loudest. My trust.  
  
"You yourself told me that Sydney would not leave the CIA until Sloane was brought down. By making him think he had my cooperation I was able to get close enough to do something about that. I had to do it!" Irina raised her voice, trying to force him to understand.  
  
Jack pursed his lips, wavering between believing her and telling her to go to hell.  
  
"Stop being so stubborn!" she yelled, and took a step closer to him, "Are you really so dense that you think I could carry her inside me for nine months, give birth to her and watch her grow for six years without completely falling in love? I can be cold, Jack, but not that cold."  
  
"You may believe that Irina, but I don't," Jack spat. "Maybe you're so lost in your lies you don't even know the truth anymore!"  
  
"It's not a lie!"  
  
"How could I ever be sure? How can I ever trust your word?"  
  
Irina fell silent. That was the question she wanted to find the answer to. So far, she'd been unsuccessful. And she knew it was because there was only one person who knew the answer.  
  
Dejected, she stared at him before admitting, "I don't know. What do I have to say?"  
  
Part Five  
  
The silence stretched on, as both realized he couldn't answer the question either. There was nothing she could say to convince him.  
  
Turning away, Irina moved close to the window and looked out at the street lights and passing cars. Slowly Jack walked forward slowly, until he was standing right behind her. He was confused by all the things he was feeling. Everything he'd been through in the past because of this woman warned him not to trust her. But the anger, the bitterness, the hate he used to feel for her, were all gone. Sometimes it was even hard to remember the reasons why she should not be trusted.  
  
Jack tried to see Irina's reflection in the window and, when he did, he felt dismayed by what he saw. She was crying. And Irina never cried. Not the Irina he knew.  
  
As if sensing there was no reason to cover her tears anymore, Irina turned to face him. "There's nothing else I can say, Jack."  
  
Gently Jack brushed his fingers against her cheek, wiping away the tears. "You're right. There isn't."  
  
Irina closed her eyes, unable to face him. Where would they go from here?  
  
"Open your eyes, Irina," he told her.  
  
She did, but wouldn't meet his eyes and so he had to tell her to look at him. She did, though almost reluctantly.  
  
For several long minutes, he stared at her, studied her face and her eyes, relying on his ability to read her. Irina, realizing what he was doing, allowed him to see everything: her fear of him never trusting her again, of losing this chance to find resolution. Her determination, both to find Sydney and make Sloane pay. And her love for her daughter.  
  
Finally Jack broke the silence, which, for the first time, wasn't uncomfortable. "I'd forgotten."  
  
"What?" she asked, though she had a pretty good guess at what he meant.  
  
"Our ability to talk."  
  
".without saying a word," Irina finished for him. She felt a shimmer of hope. Maybe all was not lost after all. With that possibility, she found herself smiling.  
  
"Yes," Jack said. And then he smiled.  
  
Part Six / Epilogue  
  
They stared at each other for a moment, until Irina brought up the business at hand. "We still need to find out how to proceed with Silta."  
  
The expression on Jack's face changed immediately, and for a moment Irina feared the worst. But when he started to explain one possible course of action, she realized he'd only been focusing.  
  
Together they came up with a plan for the next day. Since they could not be seen in the field together, Irina would meet with Silta, get the information she needed from him and leave the meeting place. And instead of making certain he was under protection like their agreement stated, she would signal Jack and he would have his turn. The plan was simple and straightforward, but neither saw a problem with it in the end.  
  
Irina glanced at her watch, and reluctantly had to admit to herself that it was time to leave. She didn't want to, because this chance to talk with Jack was rare and she wasn't sure when the next time would come. But knowing there was no way to avoid the inevitable, she said, "Well, I better get going. It's getting late."  
  
Jack frowned. He was, for the first time in a long while, enjoying talking to her, and he was reluctant to let her go just yet. Especially when considering that neither had any idea when they would next have a chance like this.  
  
"Have you eaten?"  
  
Irina stared at him, dumbfound. "Excuse me?"  
  
Jack looked like he was at a loss of words, and Irina had to bite back a chuckle as she thought of another time, another county, some thirty years before. She'd almost forgotten how endearing he could be.  
  
"Nothing," he finally muttered.  
  
But Irina, seeing this as a good opportunity, didn't let the subject drop. "Remember the day you first asked me out?"  
  
Jack smiled slightly as he looked into her eyes. "I believe I asked if you'd eaten yet. I offered to take you to the new restaurant near the campus."  
  
Irina smiled at the memory. At the time she'd been glad about making progress with her assignment, but that had changed in a few short months. His consideration, attentiveness, and later, his love for her, slowly crumbled her walls and she started to become lost in the imaginary world KGB had created for her.  
  
"And you said 'I wondered when you'd ask'," Jack remembered.  
  
Irina looked into his eyes intensely, willing him to see the truth in what she was going to say. "It wasn't even a year from that day, that I knew I was going to fail my mission. I tried to fight it at first, but then I realized it was pointless. I couldn't stop feeling the way I did."  
  
Jack searched her eyes, her face, looking for any trace of deceit or attempts to hide something. To his relief and joy, he found only hope and love. Gently cupping her face in his hands, he leaned in closer and kissed her.  
  
The end 


End file.
